


Settling In

by sapphirelance



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post Storyline, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirelance/pseuds/sapphirelance
Summary: In which Lyn does her best to adapt to her new Ostian lifestyle and Hector does what he can to help.





	Settling In

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably not capable of writing any sort of smut without plot (or a semblance of plot, thereof), so it's probably a bit long, but I don't care. 
> 
> I think I write a lot about nobles or other people of higher positions trying to sabotage my otp's, but I tend to think it's fairly realistic. Especially with these two and their zero-tolerance for bullshit trying to navigate their way through politics while trying to take the high road... 
> 
> Anyway.

Lyn hadn’t cared that she'd worn her old clothes out in public. Old perhaps wasn’t the proper word for it, but the clothes she normally wore for every day. The ones that weren’t of Ostian fashion, more or less. 

 

To the other nobles and members of Hector’s cabinet, it was horrible enough that their liege went out and engaged himself to the “noble” plainswoman—to whom they saw as nothing but a bastard daughter to the Caelin throne. But to actually go through with marrying her and making her the Marchioness of Ostia when she knew nothing of their ideals or culture or possibly any other excuse they could conjure. Adding merging Caelin to Ostia to the pot had made Lyn’s life hellish.

 

It had only been shy of a month since the war ended. The time she had spent in Ostia was short, and the time she had spent married was even shorter. Lyn, being the stouthearted and kind woman she was, had gone to every length she knew of to make amends with the people, to try and appease their desires and disprove the ill-spoken rumors, but to no avail. Matthew, a tireless shadow to Lady Lyn, reported plenty of truths to Hector, as such awful things and actions against his wife were never in his presence, and Lyn didn’t want to burden anyone by speaking of them.

 

Lyn knew Hector didn’t want her to assimilate herself. He stood up for her always. The marquess of Ostia was no good with words or diplomacy, but he was nothing short of an anchor. His strong arms that drew her into his chest every night had been what kept her here; not trapping, but encouraging. 

 

There had been a few other little things that were saving graces to Lyn in the past few days. The fisherwoman in the market had slipped her a special fly for her rod, decorated with a bright feather. Disclosing to her to an undisturbed spot upriver where they could catch a good hall together if she ever wanted to. And the little girl who had nearly followed her home, too shy to speak up, but brave enough to tug at her scarf to get her attention, passing on a tiny fistful of wildflowers and a bashful smile before darting away like the wind. 

 

The blue of Lyn's tunic was caked with some spattered mud at the edges. An impulsive decision to take a ride to the former border and back was supposed to clear her mind, but she felt just as clear as the clay muddying up her clothes. 

 

The scent of fresh hay comforted her. She took in the scent eagerly, allowing her tense shoulders to slump if only for a moment. Her heart found its normal rhythm, matching the strokes of her brush against the clyde’s coat. Giving it a final loving pat, Lyn left the stables. The tear stains down her cheeks and the redness of her beautiful eyes betrayed her true feelings of frustration and exhaustion. As if to cement that frustration, the usually confident and pleasant noble kept her gaze downcast all the way back into the manse. 

 

She would surely hear about it when she stepped inside—harsh demands of why she had skipped a “desperate” meeting with the wives of the cabinet members and then presume to show up (at her own home) in “filthy rags” had her already plotting another ride before her boots met the threshold of the doorway. 

 

The manse felt empty when she entered. As Lyn did her best to clean herself up, she saw no forms of life at all bustling about like they had been for the past week. It was eerily silent. 

 

A familiar smell led her to the kitchen. One so warm and homey it wrapped her in an embrace, and she would follow it anywhere. Definitely something Sacaen, though it wasn’t something she could put her finger on right away. There was something different about it. 

 

Something burnt?

 

Peering around the corner, Lyn spotted Hector standing at the stove with his back turned to her, watching him expertly stir the contents of the pan in front of him. The aroma coming from the pan already smelled much better than the charred remains of his first few attempts. The emptiness in her core reminded her the last time she had eaten had been dawn, and now she was finally finding an appetite again as dusk settled in. 

 

And adding to the list of surprises Lyn discovered while being married to Hector, he could actually cook quite well. For being Hector, anyway. 

 

And if there was a backup plan. 

 

“Hey,” he said, giving her a small smile as he turned to glance at her before turning back to the dish. 

 

Lyn wordlessly stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around his broad torso from behind and promptly burying her face in his back. She had partially expected a smart retort from him, but instead he was quiet. One of his bear-paw hands found hers at his front and encased it almost entirely.

 

“Did the ride help?” he asked. 

 

Lyn didn’t answer right away, regarding the question silently. After a moment, she broke away from him to prepare some tea. She loathed how frail her voice sounded as she squeaked out. “It’s been a long week.” 

 

Both ate and shared their tea in peaceful silence at the simple table in the kitchen, meant for the staff. Hector managed to get a smile out of Lyn as his fork danced over her plate, swiping a tiny piece of her dinner before shoving it in his mouth. Lyn returned the favor before the food fight broke out—her fork nearly spearing his hand as the table became splattered with leftovers. Lyn signaled her surrender with a frustrated groan, breaking down into tired laughter and chucking a hunk of bread at Hector’s face.

 

“You idiot,” she sighed, unable to contain even the small smile at her lips. “I’m too tired to fight you.” 

 

A feral spark lit up Hector’s face, eyeing her playfully. Lyn rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” 

 

“Too late.” 

 

Hector scooped her up effortlessly in his arms, not without a surprised yelp from Lyn as he hoisted her over his shoulder. Scaling the staircase to the second floor and into their bedroom. 

 

“Hector!” Lyn squeaked. “We need to clean up a little better—People are here, you know!” 

 

“No they’re not,” he announced proudly, emphasized by the sing-song in his voice as they reached the second floor. He set Lyn down on her feet in their room, smiling at her smugly. “You are so easy to tease.” 

 

She smacked his arm, eliciting a chuckle from him as she went behind the screen to change. Hector slid the lock of their door in place and began to disrobe himself. Only after a moment did Lyn pipe up from the other side. 

 

“In all seriousness, where _is_  everyone?” she asked.

 

“Gone,” Hector repeated just as proudly as before, as if it were one of his greatest feats. Lyn huffed a laugh under her breath, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

 

“You said that already, but that just leaves me with more questions than answers. I wouldn’t imagine all the nobles and officials simply _disappearing_ , Hector. Not after all the pestering they’ve been putting us through.” Gods only knew what happened, and Lyn wasn’t about to guess. With Hector, some things were better left in the dark. Though she couldn’t say she was upset by this news, if it weren’t too good to be true.

 

She hadn’t registered the squeaks of the bed frame or the creaks in the floorboard, nearly leaping into the air when he appeared behind the changing screen topless. A rather undignified shout erupted from her lips. Her first instinct was to cover herself, hands going criss-cross her body as if that would help.

 

“Hector!” she exclaimed, the furious blush spread across her face could light the room. 

 

“What?” he asked flatly. Taking eyes off from her only a moment to gesture to the screen before returning to her. “What’s the point of this anyway? Aren’t we married?” 

 

Lyn turned away with a huff, ungluing her eyes from his sculpted top and scrambling to pull on her night gown over her head. “Yes, but Councilman Harrington’s wife told me Ostian women don't—” 

 

“Fuck that,” he said. His hands wove their way to cradle her shoulders from behind, the contact itself stopping her from pulling her nightgown over her head. He held her from behind, nestling his face into her verdant locks. Lyn shivered. Goosebumps rose on her skin where Hector’s arms didn’t cover as he pulled her into the warmth his chest. 

 

“They’re gone, Lyn,” he repeated his words pointedly from earlier. His low tone told Lyn he was dead serious. “You’ve been busting your ass trying to people-please here, and how the council has been treating you isn’t right.” 

 

She sighed. “Hector—”

 

“Don’t “Hector” me. I’ve seen what’s been going on. They don’t want to see you for who you are and they hold you no respect. Between me and Armads, we cleared out the rabble.” 

 

Lyn felt tension flee her body, her tone muscles nearly giving way. She felt her voice crack when she asked. “And you didn’t save any for me to finish off?” 

 

“I left you a senator or two to skewer.” 

 

Lyn could feel a smug smile against her skin from her partner’s lips. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. There was a genuine pause of contentment between the two, Lyn squeezing his arm as a wordless thanks and Hector squeezing her back in reassurance. 

 

“We both talk better with a blade in hand, don’t we?” she asked. All she got in reply was a muffled “Mm-hmm” against her neck. 

 

She sighed again, remembering how she was trying to dress before Hector waltzed by and interrupted. “If you’re so intent on not letting me wear my night clothes, will you at least let me in bed? It’s freezing in here!” 

 

Lyn did her best to push away his arms, hoping to escape to the bed and under the covers, but he held her in place. Even when he was teasing her, he wasn’t any less sturdy and unwavering than a boulder. 

 

“Maybe.” He snaked a kiss down at the base of her neck, progressing lower and lower down her body and Lyn now realized exactly what _else_ he was getting at. 

 

There was no teasing now. His grip around her tightened like a cobra. Warm breath against her skin gave her another shiver not from the chill. His calloused, warm hands roamed over her agile figure, taking every ounce of her in. Still from behind, Hector craned his neck around, pressing a kiss to her jawline as his hands slid back up her torso, finding her breasts under the covering. Lyn’s scent was still of the wilderness outside and the faintly of the fresh hay in the stables from her earlier ride. She nearly melted under his touch. A quiet gasp escaped her when those rough fingers glided across her skin.

 

“Hector,” she breathed, her breath hitching as he pressed another kiss just below her jaw, sucking on her neck. 

 

“Getting warmer?” he asked, breaking away only long enough to actually speak. His deep tone still muffled from being buried in her neck. 

 

She moaned his name again in an exhale. Hector scooped her up only to turn and set her down on their ample bed. Lyn already felt void without his touch at her breasts, but watched his expression expectantly, already knowing he had something else in mind. She sat at the edge of the mattress, propped up on her elbows as Hector knelt before her, eye level with her hips.

 

“Let me do something nice for you,” he said. His wandering hands moving up her thighs, all but ripping her underwear off her hips. Lyn’s eyes grew wide as she watched him nearly disappear except for the head of blue hair that rose just above the height of the mattress. 

 

“A-Are we really doing this?” she fumbled out quickly. She felt Hector’s touch linger at her thighs, pausing their exploration. 

 

“Did you not want to?” he asked genuinely.  

 

“Of course I do!” The reply came out far more urgent than she intended, resulting in Lyn immediately flushing and clamping her mouth shut with her hand. Hector only laughed, making Lyn’s complexion pinker. 

 

“Those bastards didn’t let us have a honeymoon, I’m making up for it,” he said.

 

The migration of kisses continuing southward past her breasts, roaming over the plains of her sculpted abdomen and the ridges of her hip bones. Hector slowed, not at all wavering in confidence, but awing over her in reverence. A goddess made flesh. If Hector were one to believe in such things, Lyn would be the one to make him a zealot. 

 

His kisses lightly danced at the inside of her thigh. Lyn shut her eyes, fisting the comforter under her in her hands as she eased into his touches. Heat burned at her core, only serving to fuel her arousal. The slow pace he had begun to set was absolute agony. 

 

“Augh!” she groaned. “Hector!” 

 

“What?” Hector demanded. His tone was slightly annoyed but the coy smirk plastered on his face betrayed his obvious teasing. “I’m savoring.” 

 

Lyn rolled her eyes, falling back against the bed. “Savor a little faster, maybe?” 

 

“Wow. And here I thought I was doing something _nice_  for you.” 

 

Lyn felt a wave of heat roll in through her. Her breath beginning to grow short and choppy. With an exhale, she stared at the ceiling above them. “I swear, I’ll smack you.” 

 

Hector chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

 

Giving one another grief was a good third of their whole relationship, if not half. Though, Hector decided he shouldn’t be so cruel as to keep her waiting. He crouched to her level, burying his face into her folds and _gods_ when he got there it was almost too much for _him_. Inside, she was practically dripping for him already. Her scent nearly made him lose it, but he would not come first. 

 

With a sharp gasp for air upon entry of his tongue, Lyn’s hands moved from the comforter to finding Hector’s hair, winding her fingers through it. Tugging on it harder than she realized every time Hector passed over her clit, sending waves of pleasure rushing through her. Her legs draped over Hector’s shoulders—ankles clenching and toes curling in response to the wonderful stimulation in her core.

 

“Oh gods,” she moaned. This was more than something nice. Lyn didn’t think Hector could be modest—he _had_ to have been teasing her still, the brute. His ministrations grew far from their languid touches earlier, sending her further and further into a daze with her orgasm setting it in stone. 

 

Unable to deny the pride he felt at Lyn’s reaction, Hector pulled his face away from the heat of her folds and rose to his feet. He towered over her, draping himself atop of her as the bombardment of kisses began again, like he was making up for lost time not spent on peppering her skin with love bites. He reached her lips again, tongue darting into her mouth only to find hers in his. He was lost in her presence.

 

Hector nearly jumped when he felt her deft fingers against his length. He released a groan muffled by their mouths, which only made Lyn chuckle as she pulled away from him, as breathless as he was but that didn’t stop her. 

 

“Lyn—!” Hector grunted as he repositioned himself. 

 

“I just thought I’d return the favor,” she replied with a smirk. 

 

“You are mad, woman. Who said I was done with you?” he managed to ask. His thunderous tone low and husky in her ears made her squirm. Leave it to him to turn it into a competition. Though she was just as bad. 

 

One of Hector’s slick fingers found its way to Lyn’s entrance, teasing the opening before slipping inside. Lyn gripped him tighter. One of her hands at his shoulder dug into his sculpted flesh, nails making brilliant red crescents into his skin while the other kept a brisk pace at his length. 

 

Satisfied with the muffled, low groan from Hector, Lyn wrapped her arms around his neck, carding her fingers through his hair. One hand cupped his face, kissing him with a hunger yet to be fully sated. She gripped his hair fiercely as his length graced the inside of her thigh, pushing through to her core.

 

Hector felt the snugness of the warm, velvety walls that enveloped him slowly, but surely. Watching her carefully for any expression of discomfort, Hector was both pleased and relieved when he saw none, fully hilting within her. The plainswoman simply moaned in ecstasy, wrapping her legs around him to keep him in place as they found their rhythm. His thrusts grew more fervent and deep—deeper than anything Lyn had experienced before.

 

“Mm!” Lyn moaned, grasping his arm in her hand again. A new found pleasure washed over her, far more intensely than what she had found so far. She squeezed his arm with a death hold.

 

“Hector—just! There!” she begged with ragged breath. “There!” 

 

Hector couldn’t deny the smirk that spread across his face. Obviously he had found something good. Hearing Lyn beg for only something he could give was definitely fueling his desire to please her. 

 

“Here?” he asked. 

 

“Yes! Oh gods, yes,” Lyn praised as Hector did his best to hit the spot Lyn had guided him to with every thrust, eliciting more psalms and praises from her lips. Even slipping into her native tongue, he understood enough Sacaen to know she was thoroughly pleased with him as the words rolled from her lips breathlessly. She was sure Hector would pound them both through the bed and to the floor as he went at her harder and faster.

 

Before he had a chance to warn her, Lyn felt Hector’s release, shooting white heat through her core, more than she ever anticipated there being. Though she willed to take it all in greedily, feeling full to the brim before he removed himself from her, collapsing at her side. The once neatly made bed now a mess, sheets and blankets crumpled up to the edge, stained and damp with the remnants of their romp. Pillows strewn aside and tossed to the floor. 

 

Both stared at one another breathlessly. Lyn gave him a smile that put him more at ease, still slightly on edge on how she’d react to him finishing inside of her. She caressed his cheek with her palm as she caught her breath, pulling him in again for yet another kiss.

 

“I’m gonna burn that screen,” Hector said to her, catching his breath. 

 

Lyn just laughed. “Not if I beat you to it.” 

 

Hector salvaged a clean blanket, draping it overtop them both after fishing two pillows from the foot of the bed. He settled in next to her, his broad figure nearly crushing Lyn in a poorly-executed attempt to be the big spoon. Yet he draped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his frame, pressing a tired, chaste kiss to the top of her head. Leaving her thoroughly loved and entirely squished.

 

And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 


End file.
